


silly boy

by Blownwish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Job, Fingering, M/M, Obsessive Otabek, otabek’s a little crazy, otayuri - Freeform, suspicious Otabek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 23:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is trying to distract Otabek from winning the gold with sex so Otabek decides to distract him right back.





	silly boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betelxeuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betelxeuse/gifts).



> Again, huge thank you to Annabeth. Y’all don’t even know. She is the most amazing beta.

Yuri Plisetsky is messing with his head. He’s sending Otabek near naked pictures, texting _what do you think???_ He pushes the elastic of his underwear down just a little when he turns around and takes a snapshot over his shoulder. _Toned_ , he texts. _Think you can take me on, Beka????_

They’re supposed to be friends. Otabek thought they would be, but friends don’t try to drive friends out of their minds like this. Coach says he’s gotten sloppy since Barcelona. “That kid did something to your head,” she told him on the flight back to Almaty. “That's why you took fourth. He made a fool of you in that expo skate on top of it. Watch yourself. You’re not the first skater to lose his edge over a pretty face.” She was thinking of Nikiforov. 

And Otabek is thinking of Nikiforov, now, as he glides across the Medeu ice rink. He feels exposed; the mountains push wind against him as if they are answering _yes_. Otabek takes his jump, a single axel. It’s a little push back. Nikiforov, unbeatable Nikiforov, thinks he can come back, but everyone knows he’s lost his mind over a little ass.

Otabek takes another jump, a double axel, just as the wind picks up. Yuri is sending more pictures to his phone. Otabek will see the notifications when he checks it after practice. He shouldn’t look at them until he is in his apartment, in his bathroom, in his own private space. 

He gets off the ice right away, even though he’s not done practicing. His hands shake but somehow he finds his phone in his duffel. There are two notifications. He doesn’t want to do this, but he looks anyway. 

It’s one picture. Yuri is standing in front of the full length mirror in his room in nothing but a pair of pink briefs. The text says _practice hard_.

He curses himself. Yuri. Everything, everyone, _anyone_ , as he goes back on the ice. He will practice hard. And then, when he gets home, he is going to give as good as he got, all over again. Yuri Plisetsky isn’t the only one with a camera and Yuri knows it.

The ice is a battlefield and this is war. 

++

He focuses on Yuri’s mouth as he presses him up against the wall. “Shh!” He knows why Yuri showed up at his room with a big grin and tight leggings, and it wasn’t to go out and have tea. _Tea_. Yuri wasn’t thinking about tea during competition practice, not when he deliberately stood in front of Otabek in his skin tight black bodysuit bouncing that perky little ass on the floor when he made that split while he smiled right back at Otabek.

“What did you come here for?” Otabek puts Yuri’s hand on his cock. “You here for this?” Yuri smiles because he thinks he’s won already. Silly boy. He is going down and Otabek’s going to be the one who takes the gold this time. “You want this, Yura?” He smiles right back at him. “Yurochka?”

He rubs Otabek. He lets Otabek kiss him, opens his mouth and Otabek takes and takes and gives back nothing, even when Yuri’s hand stops moving. He doesn’t touch him. He will not touch him. Let Yuri go without.

But not go hungry. Otabek pushes his thumb in his mouth the break the kiss. “You never did this before.” That doesn’t make him innocent. “But you know what to do.” He nods until Yuri nods back in a daze. Of course he knows. He’s prepared to do whatever it takes to win, and so is Otabek. “Suck my cock.”

Silly boy. He looks up at him with a soft little pout, as if that’s going to make it any easier. “Show me how?” He rubs his crotch against Otabek’s thigh. He wants to be the one who gets off. 

Oh, he thinks that’s going to work? He thinks he’s going to lead Otabek by the dick, like Katsuki does with that fool Nikiforov? Silly, silly boy. Otabek’s about to show him who’s in control, here. 

“Get on your knees.” He unzips his fly. “Come here.” Yuri stares as Otabek strokes it. He stumbles a little when Otabek yanks him by the belt loop. “I said, _come here_.” He pushes him down. He holds him down by the hair. But Yuri’s not sucking. “What’s the problem?”

That’s when Yuri smiles up at him. “Nothing.”

More silly little tricks. Otabek smacks his cheek with his dick. “Open your mouth and keep those teeth out of the way.” He watches Yuri stick out that pretty little pink tongue and lick the tip. God, it’s so wet and so soft, like he’s not sure. But he’s sure. He knows what he’s doing. “No. Open your mouth.” Otabek smacks his lower lip until he does what he’s told. 

That’s it, that’s it. He’s going to be good for Otabek. He pops that dick in his mouth because that’s what he’s supposed to do. That’s what he’s meant to do. Otabek’s going to own Yuri Plisetsky. 

It’s not much of a blowjob. Otabek doesn’t expect much, either. Yuri barely moves his head and he doesn’t use his tongue at all. He’s looking up at Otabek with those big blue-green eyes while he sucks and sucks and sucks — as if this is supposed to bring Otabek to his knees. 

But, oh god! The way his hands are rubbing Otabek’s thighs! The way he’s purring deep in his throat! Yuri moans when Otabek thrusts into his mouth. He sucks harder. He begins to stroke himself off and Otabek can see his eyes. They’re so big and they get bigger with every thrust. 

“You want to be mine, Yura? You want to be my boy?”

Yuri pleads with his eyes. Oh, he will be. Otabek will be sure of it. He won’t belong to Russia. He will be Otabek’s in body and soul. There will be no more teasing, no more toying with Otabek’s head. 

“Then prove it.” He pulls out. Yuri gasps; strings of spit slide down his chin. “Ride it.” 

He’s grinning again. He’s licking his lips and rolling over, pulling down his leggings and waving that tight little ass at him. “How bout you ride me?” 

Silly, silly boy. 

“No. You ride me.” He’s not the only one with a body. Otabek takes his time unbuttoning his shirt while Yuri looks over his shoulder. It comes off slowly, so slowly, millimeter by millimeter while Yuri tries to make him go faster by wiggling his ass more. He shakes his head. “Stop it.” Yuri whines but he stops. “Oh, you’re good boy when you want to be.” 

Otabek’s belt falls the the floor with a soft thud. So do his shoes. He hooks his thumb around the loops of his pants and pulls them down, just a little. Yuri kicks his leggings off, tears his shirt off, gets back on his knees and starts jerking off his sweet little pink dick.

“You want me, Yura?” Otabek steps up to him. Pulls his pants down a little bit more, then licks his thumb and rubs it on the tip of his wet dick. Yuri nods. “Say it.”

“I want you, Beka! I want you so, so bad! Can’t you see?”

He has to want him more than anything. “How much?” asks Otabek. Yuri swallows hard. “More than Russia? More than gold?” He steps out of his pants. 

“Fuck Russia.” He says it so quickly. He presses his face against Otabek’s thigh and inhales deeply. “Russia can burn for all I care, as long as you fuck me.”

Something in the back of Otabek’s head says this isn't enough but Yuri is rutting up against his leg now. He’s moaning, grabbing for his dick and trying to put it back in his mouth. 

“Silly boy.” He doesn’t know if he’s saying this to himself or Yuri this time. All he knows is he’s hauling Yuri up and throwing Yuri on the bed and all he knows is Yuri is spreading his legs as he climbs on top of him. He’s wrapping his arms around him. Wrapping his legs around him. Trying to trap him with his creamy, firm little body as he rolls his hips. “Russia _will_ burn.” He winds that blond hair around his fist. “I will burn it to ashes, Yura. I will burn the whole world down before I’m done with you.”

“Oh fuck yes!” Yuri nips at his jaw. “God, I love you, Beka!”

He pulls the lube out of his nightstand and pushes it in Yuri’s hand. “I want to see how much you love me.” Yuri blinks. “Finger yourself. Get yourself ready for me.” 

He flips them over so Yuri is straddling his thighs. “I’ve never done this before.” Yuri’s hands are shaking and he’s dribbling the crap all over, more falls on Otabek than Yuri’s fingers. He likes that. He likes how nervous Yuri is. “Fuck!” 

Otabek puts a hand behind his head as he strokes himself with the other and smiles. Yuri reaches from behind. He bites his lip. He closes his eyes. He sucks in a long, slow breath and whimpers. “I want three fingers,” Otabek says. 

“Yes, Beka.” It's the sweetest whine and Otabek loves it. He needs it. He needs more. So much more. And he gets it when Yuri falls forward and braces himself on the mattress. He can hear the sick soft squelch and he can see the pink flush in his skin and he can feel the huff of Yuri’s breath as he pants. 

Yes, _pant_ for Otabek. 

“I’m at two,” Yuri whispers. “Please, Beka?”

Otabek takes him by the chin. “Look at my cock.” He does. “I’m a lot bigger than two little fingers, Yura. Three. Right now.”

He sobs but he does it and he is so, so beautiful when he does. Beautiful because he’s almost Otabek’s. Almost. 

Otabek pushes him back. “Lube on me.” He grits his teeth as Yuri stares down at him with those big blue-green eyes and works his cock. 

“I love you, Beka.” 

Silly boy. 

He pushes himself inside slowly, relishing the resistance and the tight _give_ as Yuri digs his nails deep into Otabek’s thighs and moans. He works his way in deeper with shallow little thrusts, up and down, up and down, thumbing the head of Yuri’s cock. Then he stops. “Love me then, Yura.”

He takes a deep breath. He tosses back all that blond hair. He closes his eyes, and comes down, all the way down, in slow motion as the world tilts and he’s sitting on Otabek’s dick. 

No, _he’s riding it_. 

“Beka!” Yuri keeps saying it over and over as he runs his hands through his own hair and face, and then over his own body, and he's so _tight_ , he's so _hot_. “Love you so much, Beka!”

Otabek strokes him faster. “How much, Yura? How much do you love me?”

Skin is slapping and the mattress is squeaking and Yuri — Yuri is sobbing. “More than anything!” _Anything._ And he comes. He comes in big sloppy strings all over Otabek’s chest, and Yuri doesn’t stop. He keeps riding him, keeps sobbing for him. Keeps giving himself to him. 

Totally, completely. Otabek surges up, Otabek wraps his arms around him. And right before Otabek can say Yuri belongs to him, Yuri kisses him. Gently, so gently. 

Oh, god —

Otabek tells himself something when he comes: _Silly boy_. He is the one who’s been owned. And somehow he doesn’t even care. 

++

Otabek smiles on the podium as the lights flash and the crowd cheers. He holds up his medal. It’s been hard-earned, but it’s his. 

And Yuri smiles up at him, while he holds up his silver. “I knew you could do it. Never doubted it.” Yuri takes his hand and holds it up, too. “Don’t get too comfortable up there.”

Otabek chuckles softly. “Oh, I’m sure you won’t let me.”

“I love you.” Yuri whispers. 

Otabek squeezes his hand. “I know.” Silly boy, Otabek loves him, too.


End file.
